The insides are pure-white and spongy, an awful lot like Wonder Bread. Also dismaying: a slight, unpleasant medicinal flavor when raw.
But hold on—fry up those thick steaks and they into Heaven, Fungal Heaven. They cook way, way down into something like a mushroom-scented custardy cheese with a crisp brown crust. Or like what tofu wishes it were.
A perfect sandwich: two puffball steaks, greens and a smear of tomato confit.
Wisdom of the Tubes: Tom Volk, the University of Wisconsin mushroom expert, details how puffballs may be used as crash-test dummies, snowmen and butt implants.
Now I am sad. I have eaten the puffball. I keep going for bike rides and getting my hopes up. But all the white poufs I spot on the roadside turn out to be Giant Trashballs.